8EC0N } COPY, 
18^9. 



t''m9i-'\m^} 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

^nap. Copyright Ko 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



''Let him rejoice who has a loaf of bread, 
A little nest wherein to lay his head, 

Is slave to none, and no man slaves for him, 
In truth his lot is wondrous well bestead. 

''Sooner with half a loaf contented be, 
And w^uter from a broken crock, like mc. 

Than lord it over one poor fellow-man, 
Or to another bow the vassal knee.'' 






^AlADEENE 
OTHER POEMS 









AALA DEENE 



OTHER POEMS. 




BY 



RALCY HUSTED BELL, M. D., F. A. G. S. 



BUFFALO: 

CHARLES WELLS MOULTON, 

1899. 






-^0540 

Copyright 1899 by 
RALCY HiJSTED BELL. 

TWO COPIES RECEIVED. 









TO 

COLONEL ROBERT G. INGERSOLL- 

A MASTER 

POET, PHILOSOPHER, ORATOR, 
FRIEND. 



Contents 





PAGE 


A Plea of Flesh 


9 


A Plea of the Soul . 


13 


My Choice .... 


15 


In Her Dawn-Grey Eyes 


17 


Breast to Bosom 


19 


Doom 


21 


Aala Deene 


22 


The Waltz 


68 


Col. Eobert G. Ingersoll, The Master 


70 


The Birds on Grady's Statue 


75 


Junius A. George 


77 


A Love-Dream 


79 


Immortality .... 


81 


My Country .... 


82 


Lost Leaves .... 


84 


I Went to Her at Even-tide 


85 


My Lady's Glove . . . . 


87 


The Keapers .... 


88 


Shadow Shoals 


90 



VIU 



CONTENTS. 





PAGE 


Rain Echoes 


92 


Accept, Soul 


04 


To Florence 


95 


In Klondyke Snow . . . . 


96 


Dread 


97 


If I Were the Sun and You Were the 




Dew .... 


98 


The Master 


99 


Marian ..... 


100 


Into the Woods 


101 


Faults which i^'low and Flow wliiel 




Falters .... 


lo:) 


My Ship 


109 


The Singer .... 


no 


Detianco 


111 


My Letter of Acceptance . 


112 


Though I Knew that the Daylight AVas 




Done .... 


117 


OSun! 


118 


A Day with John J. Ingalls 


120 


Eugene V. Debs 


121 


Days of the Unborn 


123 


By the Arms of the Mystical Sea 


125 


Answering Voice . 


127 


He Did Not Understand . 


128 


And God Is Dead or Deaf to Things 


132 



AALA DEENE; 

AND OTHER POEMS. 



gl ^Im of $Xt^lx. 

®<r\EAR FLORENCE, as I fondly dream 

^-^ of you, 
A thousand flitting fancies haunt my brain — 
I see the summer dome serene and blue — 
I feel the chilling touch of autumn rain. 

I know not what at last may be the best. 
I only know that life and love be much — 
AVith you alone my weary lieart fuuls rest — 
My soul is joyous with your faintest touch. 

And yet perhaps this chomic sun and clay. 
So passionate and pompous, is poorly snuiU 

and vain — 
And all our longings for a larger day 
But futile Fancy's gift of cruel pain. 

(0) 



10 AALA DEEJ^E 

Perchance the shadow-pictures painted here 
In whispered wooings, tlirills and even this 
Swarming somewhat ahnost kin to tears, 
Are winged things a world would hardly miss. 

And you, dear love, beauteous as the birth 
Of perfect love, and fairer than the day, 
May in a little while return to earth 
Like me, and mingle close with common clay. 

I know how brief must be my little race — 
How short the span from sweet to grief and 

gall- 
How soon the moon will light my lifeless face 
With sweet unconscious smiles soft flooding all. 

I plead no selfish cause — I hold the light 
To guide your dainty darling feet aright. 
I tell no simple tale ; my eager might 
Would snatch some scattered gleams from 
gulfs of night. 

You speak of duty's fashions and forget the 

flowers 
That a million »ons have bloomed within the 

heart. 
With wanton waste you kill the happy hours 
To please a worthless world, and act a part. 



AN"D OTHER POEMS. 11 

You bid me court the Soul, even as they 
Who claim 'tis just and right and good to be 
Forgetful of the flesh — to spurn the clay — 
Buy future trust for present misery. 

But false, or fools are they who fain would 

speak 
Their silly nonsense thus to you or me ! 
There is no virtue alone in being weak, 
Nor is it greater sin to be wholly free. 

They spurn the flesh, these nasty sacred saints. 
And speak of "earth" as "earthy" with their 

foggy breath. 
Do they know all? wherefrom the soul drinks 

taint 
Disease, which lingers after puny death? 

They know not what they say — not what they 

say- 
That speak of Soul in shameless gabble, long 
Denouncing that of flesh, "unclean" and 

"clay," 
And undistinguishing the singer from the 

song. 

I swear to you, the soul can be no more 
Divine than where it grows — its wondrous 
sod — 



12 AALA DEENB 

Go taste the deep-sea brine at the stubborn 

shore, 
And know that man was never less than God ! 

! live not for a world that falsely cries 
Against the elements so native to its breast! 
Its under-robes speak loud of hidden lies — 
And flesh by flesh has been — will be — caressed. 

A dream — a fond illusion lives and dies — 
And this makes up our world — a world of lies. 
For all our aimless joys and fairest skies 
Are lost and gone when Death seals Fancy's 
eyes. 

All save the amorous wooings of the Sun 
And ever pregnant Earth but seem to be — 
If thro' the years a stainless purpose runs, 
It lives in flesh — it lives in you and me ! 

Your large illumined eyes should never feel 
The fantom touch of fear nor heat of tears. 
Nor suffer wizard hands from graves to seal 
Their freer look beyond the foam of years. 



AND OTHEK POEMS. 13 



31 |tlra ^f tire ^ottl. 

i^^II LOVE, oil love, oh lover detidly dear! 
^-^ Come hold my hand, as you hold my 

heart to-night ! 
Oh, come my love, before the morning light 
To yon deep cliff that hopeless holds me near ! 



Oh love, dear love, my lover deadly pale ! 
What makes your brow so damp my dearest 

dear? 
Oh heart, beat not so loud ! there is no fear 
Where shadows sleep within a tearless vale. 

You bade me give my flesh — unsacred clay — 
To basest use — Oh, ever kindly IMight, 
Speed out my Soul! unushered back to light. 
Or else, oh God! I know not what I say! 

You did not mean it, dear ! my noble lad ! 
My bonnie boy ! You joked your little girl ! 
There — now — my pot — oh, pretty curls! 
Oh curls that frame a face so pale and sad ! 



14 AALA DEENE 

I know, the soil that grows a soul — the sod — 
Divine must be, and pure as stars — 
Yet lawless are the waves above the bars — 
Sing on and on, "both soil and soul are Cod!" 

Oh, sacred sin! the pretty rose leaf fell, 
Damp with the dews of love, down in the 

dust — 
And the heart of a woman, by the luring liand 

of lust, 
Was wantonly slain, and cruelly sent to Hell. 

But I think if ever the truth and the all be 

told; 
When a fragile form was dashed on the rocks 

below, 
A saintly perfume 'rose, and I think he knows 
An exchange was made — his soul for her flesh 

Avas sold. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 15 



^/TY CTTOICE, you ask? well yes, I have a 
■^^ V^^ choice 

In human flesh. Like other barbarous men 
Who feed on life I have my fancy too. 

Sometimes I think the Yankee girl is best, 
And when the spell is on me quite at ease 
And satisfied. Again I choose a change 
For change's sake, seeking other blood and 

fire 
Of magnetism — seek otlier types and hues 
"VVherefrom 1 weave rich webs — make woven 

dreams — 
Grotesque perhaps, and colored bright and 

deep — 
But pure as God. 

I have no prejudice 
'Mongst womankind of race or skin or creed. 
A noble squaw is Cod personified. 
The same I say of Creole, wench and Jap, 
Excluding none because of color, caste. 
Or creed. And yet, as now the spell of choice 



10 A ALA DEENE 

Hroods 'or my luiiid, soft hatching out my 

tlioughts 
In foathorod fancies, must confess to wing 
My way straight toward the noble race of 

Jews. 

Dear ^Nature hath been kind to those whom 
man 
I lath sought to harm and meanly persecute. 

A thousand tlamning curses would I heap 
I'pon the head of him who wrongs a Jew 
lu'can.^c a Jew! a thousatui blessings o\\ 
'Die soul of Ingersoll, defender of 
The just and good, the helpless and maligned. 

dust now I say: Dear Jewess come to me I 
Your veins are rich and full of noble blood 
Made royal by the Ilerod-hand of Hate, 
Which like some homely yeast ferments ami 

works 
And purities the vintage of the gods. 
(^ fetch to me your rosy rounded form 
That I may worship it and tind therein 
A worthy god — your beauty, chaste and sweet. 
smile on me thou lustrous Jewess eye I 
heave for me thou drifted, melting breast, 
Snow-white and perfect as the panting stars. 



AND OTIIKR I'OKMS. 17 

])iii(l nio fiiat witli ivory links of nrms 
And [)iisli your soul so ovor iiiiiio that I 
May liiul socludod perfect rest and in 
Your glorious porsoiialii.y may die! 



A* 



r Pi'lX^llKl) my tout in a forest lonely 
^ With the dark trees overhead 
vVt the hush of the day when the pulsing 
Of the world seemed tired and dead. 

And wed to my soul was the memory 
or my heart's one passion that bled, 

As my life in tiie darkness lay ebbing — 
(Joing down to the night of tlu^ dead. 

And a dread of the morning oppressed me 
With the fear of new life, and vain 

With the tumult of living and lovinc: 
That eonld olTer no eas(i to my pai!i. 

II cart-slain, I longed for some stillness, 
S()m(5 hush, as enfolding mo then — 

A slumber supreme ami eteriuil, 

Undisturbed by th(^ daughters of men. 



18 AALA DEEKE 

And when, in my agony weeping 
And mourning the loss of my years, 

Tliere came with the spirit of grieving 
And heart-easing flow of my tears, 

And the fears that had fantomed the morning, 

A form drawing silently near, 
Caressing my soul with the sweetness 

Of a long lost smile and a tear. 

And the bier of my dead hope blossomed 
At the glow of her lustrous eyes. 

And the stars of unnumbered silence 
Clustered and peopled the skies. 

And the prize of requited devotion 

With the blossom and fruit of its cliarms. 

Came back in the presence of Florence 
With our star-child safe in her arms. 

In her arms once more and our rapture 
Completion and loving were wed. 

And the fautoms I feared in the morning 
I knew were departed and dead. 

We pressed and caressed and triumphant 
Our passion empurpled the skies, 

And the glory and good of my living 
I found in the light of her eyes. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 19 



g5x*cit$t to ^i^^mn* 

/^OME, my winsome little woman with your 
^^^^ passion strangely human, 

And your wealth of smiles and hair — 
We shall go to — sanely sober; soft, enchant- 
ing, sear October 

With our love and longing bare — 
Bare, the gleam on gleam enfolding — 
Breast to bosom closer holding 

Than the tight glove to your hand. 

Give the wine to others older, others calmer, 

coarser, colder — 
Those who need the cheer of fire — 
Let our love burn to the ember, gray and cold 

as bleak December — 

All-in-all is our desire 
All in all the dream enfolding — 
Breasc to bosom closer holding 

'Julian the tight glove to your hand. 



30 aala"deen"e 

Throw the curtains wide and wider! let the 
light stream strongly on us! 
Lose your laces ! dolf and dare ! 
We will go to — sanely sober ; soft, enchanting, 
sear October 
With our want and wishes bare. 
Bare, the gleam on tresses falling — 
Breast to bosom presses, calling, 

Closer than your glove to hand. 

We shall drink to drunk Desire — drunk as 
Love on passion's fire, 
And your wealth of smile and hair ! 
Leave the wine for vintage older! leave the 
wine to natures colder! 
Ours is love and longing bare ! 
Bare the wish ! I want it barer ! 
Bare, the naked Soul is fairer — 

Bare I strip your little hand ! 



AND OTHER POEMS. 21 



VJER'S was the passionate, fond embrace 

V^ C)f a love that lived thro' tears; 
And her's was the patient richness of face 
Of a soul unwrecked by years. 

But she held me away with a woman's power, 
And the strength of unwilling pain ; 

And she decked her love and my love with 
the dower 
Of her blossoms that bloomed in vain. 

Dropping my head on her bosom white, 
Where the blue veins coursed at will, 

I sighed me a silent prayer to the night 
For her strength— "0 Heart, be still!" 



22 AALA DEEKE 



^^ There's much that hath no merit but its truth, 
And no excuse but nature.'' 

71 VERDANT valley wandering down be- 
-*^V^ tween 

Two mountain ranges; tliro' it flows a stream, 
And falling down a rocky place it weaves 
The misty place called falls. Below the falls, 
And nestled in among the pine-clad hills, 
An ancient village. 

Ivy hides with leaf 
And vine a mouldered mill wall, grand and 

gray, 
Owl-haunted, lonesome, thickly populous 
With shadows. Northward a path climbs a 

hill 
That overlooks the village gables, brown 
AYith moss. A cup-like crescent sleeps the 

town. 

Here in this quaint old Holland-gabled town 
Below the falls, not manyjyears ago, 



a:n^d other poems. 23 

A baby girl was christened Aala Deene — 
A tot with wide and wondrous eyes and such 
As angels born of dreams are wont to have — 
Deep-hazel eyes (for I must tell of them) 
Expressive, soft with a priori dreams 
Of love, wherein the elements and shades 
Of sadness lingered longingly to leave — 
Full clear deep tranquil lakes that never knew 
A storm — pure dewy eyes at times bedimmed 
With morning mists awakened by the dawn, 
And rising up condense in jewel-tears 
Upon the leaves of thick long lashes dark — 
Frank eyes that mirror inward thoughts and 
moods. 

This child with strange component passions 
—all 
Mere integrals of life — whose soul outgrew 
Her body, rudely orphaned by a fell 
Disease, was left to grow — unconscious bud — 
A rose neglected in a lonesome spot — 
A charge too frail and fair for an aged aunt. 

So, when the drowsy prattle of the babe 
No longer echos thro' the rosy morn 
Of dreams, and childhood scampers from the 
nest, 



24 AALA DEEI^E 

Two children play beneath the garden boughs, 

For Freddy B , a neighbor's son, doth talk 

To pretty little Aala Deene, his love. 

Thus childhood grew apace — new warmth 

was felt 
By either as the shadows shortened from 
The east. Then came long walks in early 

spring, 
Thro' meadows rich with daisy's silver and 
The dandelion's gold and blooming fresh 
On cither's cheek, the fairer flowers of youth. 

Then in summer time scarce day-break when 
The birds were calling up their mates from tree 
And bower, Fred would go, guitar in hand. 
Beneath her window softly playing airs 
He knew she liked the best — his love a bird 
On wings of song flew gently to its mate. 

*'0 wake, wake, wake love, and ope thy lattice 
wide! 

The dawn is breaking on the world, the lone- 
some night has diod ; 

The owl has fled to dark retreats, the night- 
bat roams no more, 

come from out thy dreaming place and ope 
thy lattice door. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 25 

'*0 wake, wake, wake love! the sun half o'er 

the hill 
Is gilding all the mountain tops and paints 

your window sill. 
The dew is on the clover bloom, the wild 

flowers scent the air — 
The morn is rich, the morn is fresh, but thou 

alone art fair. 

*'0 wake, wake, wake love, and see the day- 
god rise, 

For not a star in all the skies dare look thee in 
thine eyes. 

come from out thy dreaming place and walk 
awhile with me 

Up yonder hill to look upon the dawn's broad 
bosomed sea. 

"So wake, wake, wake love, and ope thy lattice 

wide! 
Breathe deep the morning's fragrant breath 

and be the morning's bride. 
The dew is on the clover bloom, the wild 

flowers scent the air, 
The morn is rich, the morn is fresh, but thou 

alone art fair!" 



26 AALA DEENE 

In silence long had Freddy loved this bud, 
Now bursting fresh and full into the flower, 
Divinely fair, of perfect womanhood. 
Ideal form — voluptuous breast and full 
Of hip with happy mean of waist, and limbs 
Wherein combined the wealth and skill and all 
The grace proportional of sculptor's art. 
And flesh, rose tinted; every amorous dent 
And dimple giving forth soft airs distilled 
From virgin health — the prettiest maid of all, 
With pearl white even teeth, and breath as soft 
And sweet as dreaming flowers have in June. 
And full red lips, a sensitive perfect mouth, 
Madonna nose and dark rich nut-brown hair. 

At last Fred's heart with manly love o'er- 

full. 
And held by timorous silence firm and fast 
Since childhood's dawn, broke loose and swept 

away 
Impediments to speech. Then burst the tide 
Of pent up love in hungry fury down 
The avenue of language, pouring forth 
In volume all his dreams of love and hope 
As some vast river breaks away the dam 
And floods the world with torrents white with 

foam. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 27 

With timid glances bent upon the ground 
The girl replied : "Dear Fred, I do not love 
You well enough to be your wife. I know 
How good and true and pure your heart is, 

Fred, 
And long have known how deeply flows your 

love — 
I read it in your glances, from your acts, 
Tho' ne'er encouraged you, nor gave you 

hope." 

The gold of autumn sunset lay upon 
The hills and painted woods, upon the stouts 
Of corn, and made a splendor of the sky; 
And down the valley lowing herds not housed 
Yet for the winter, solemnly paced home. 
The farm boy from the cornfield gladly took 
The last small load of remnants to the barn. 
Fresh autumn winds were blowing from the 

west 
And stopped to toss the raven curls that graced 
A dome of brow which seemed as white and cold 
As marble — faultless features! large brown 

eyes 
Afire with love but glassy with despair. 
And proud knees shook beneath their weight 

of woe ; 



28 AALA DEENE 



The knees that ne'er before had pressed the 

dust, 
In humbleness now bent and bowed to Love. 
And curving lips that never framed a word 
Of supplication, begged now hard for life, 
And pleaded long for mercy at her hand: 
*'0 love! angel of my life and dreams! 
My first, my only love ! love ! love ! love ! 
The only woman worth a thought in all 
This lone wide world to me ! my Aala ! 



my- 

The heart sometimes grows over-full for 
"Words — then too he read within her solemn 

eyes 
His doom, and Resignation's hand fell hard 
Upon his soul. The fury of the storm, 
Had passed; and ever after, deep and calm. 
His love flowed down the channel of his life. 

Then changes bore upon his wounded soul 
And wrought a change in him ; no longer had 
The world a need to him, and Nature whom 
He loved so well and held communion with 
So oft in other days had lost her charm 
And spring and summer dreary deserts were — 
Two seasons only seemed accord with him : 
The autumn dying, winter shrouded white. 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 29 

A paleness spread in sad and hopeless hues 

Upon his wasting features caused alarm 

To all his friends, the' none quite guessed the 

cause, 
Deep hid beneath the fragments of his heart. 

The shadows deepened into night wherein 
No stars were set to light his life with hope ; 
And from the frozen north of love-lost fate 
The dreary winds were blowing fraught with 

moans. 
His life a desert waste engulfed in night 
Thro' which his stricken soul did wander ill 
At ease and aimlessly, surrounded by 
The phantom-forms of Fancy's vanished 
hopes. 

God! Hope is wild as eagle-flight above 
A sunken grave, and airier than the stars. 
And dreamy, floats in high up ether, hued, 
Perfumed and lured by distant prophesy — 
But naught of hope had he, bereft and sad. 
And suitors for his idol's hand there came 
In numbers, and from distant towns — young 

men 
With wealth of gold and mind. Yet Aala loved 
Them not. Full souled and sensitive to worth, 
She knew that Fred was, all in all, a man. 



30 AALA DEEl^E 

Xor better ever lived ; but she, she did 
Not love him. Loyal she to nature's self, 
High minded just and good, nor found 
Among her many lovers one to suit 
Her better. 

Once while visiting with friends 
She met the man she wed, and wed. to hate — 
A beast who proved to be the devil hid 
Beneath a human guise or mask or form. 
And small of stature tho' colossal in 
Deceit's wide scope of vice or being foul; 
And dark of face and heavy nosed and vain ; 
Too fond of show, since show is little more 
Than seeming and is but the shadow of 
The real that chance or fate let fall on some 
Who lack intrinsic worth, yet pass for such — 
A counterfeit of man — a base alloy. 

And thus for years she knew no joy. Re- 
gret's 
Pale finger pointed to her brow, and bad 
Seemed multiplied by worse to fill her cup 
With sorrow's bitter lees, until at last 
A pistol shot fired by the dog, in form 
Belied of man, that laid her low for months. 
Did prove the final stroke that changed her 
life. 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 31 

Thro' most lier married hell of troubled 
years. 
Her many sorrows, pains and burning tears, 
Poor Fred, who suffered quite as much as she. 
Did hover near her, tho' she knew it not. 

Eecovering from the pistol wound, once 
more 
She sought the home of her old aunt — a small 
White cosy cottage sweet and clean, and of 
A tired dreamy town set in the curve 
Made crescent by a winding river's mood. 

Ere this had Freddy died — and as his life 
Went out a word of love for her took wings 
And flew across his livid lips and from 
The darkness to the light. His mother told 
The parting word to Aal thro' mingled tears. 

This very time, far down the moody stream 
(The spreading valley richer grows and wide) 
A dreamy boy with golden curls and eyes 
Of bluest blue, was playing 'mong the flowers. 
And by a strange process of fairy facts 
Fred's death was life to him. Diffusion less 
Than conservation of the flame seemed thus 
To enter him, whom we shall know not by 
A name, but hear his tale retold again 



32 AALA DEEKE 

As lie hath often told on stormy nights 

To old-time classmates when strong pipes and 

wine 
Made mellow hearts, and coniidential chords. 

"My boyhood days were spent in Nature's 
school — 
My letters learned of her ; my music from 
The throats of birds and babblings of the 

brook. 
Cared not for childish mates, but sought and 

found 
Companionship Avith all there is between 
Successive dawns. My thoughts were shap- 
ed by fact 
Of stream and path, and broadened by the 

change 
Of seasons — cycles of the suns. I learned 
My secrets from the flowers, my mysteries from 
The snow, and 'All there is of leaf and bud, 
Of flower and fruit, of painted insect life, 
And all the winged and happy children of 
The air that Summer holds beneath her dome 
Of blue' were known and loved by me as well. 
1 wandered much and strayed about, along 
The hillside pastures sown with happy flowers 
That murmur soft of sun-kissed holiday ; 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 33 

Where parent rocks embrace the bones of 

Time, 
All stormed about with thoughts that change 

and change. 
E'en as a schoolboy in the district school, 
With naked feet, long hair and sunburnt face, 
I had grave thoughts which ill became my 

looks. 
For 1, a laughing merry lad, of tricks 
More full than most boys, still was sad within. 
My life was blended much with wretchedness 
And recklessness, twin sisters, who sometimes 
Sustain a life but oftener lure to death. 

I seemed to get best gospels from the 

world — 
From worldly men and women — from their 
acts 
Far better than the church, and with much 

less 
Formality, that is to say, alloy. 

Then while my schoolmates slept, or older 

grown. 
Did revel out the night in senseless sport. 
Or courting still more senseless girls, or in 
Some rural bar-room foul with smoke and 

stench 



34 AALA DEEKE 

Of sickening vnin, or at some party I'or 

Some l)o<^g'aroil cliurch — sonic })ious thief in 

black — 
I spent my time with books and solitnde, 
And wrestled with my thoui^'hts until my brain 
AVas furrowed o'er with lightning strokes oi' care 
Long gathering in the clouds of toil and want, 
Uprooting old ideas and nu>ntal weeils, 
And lot>sening up the soil for seeds of trutli 
And liner thoughts — since thoughts refined 

are wealth 
Of current value in all higher life. 
So much indeed I gave to thought and dreams 
And tasks and problems of the working mind 
That sleep received but few mean paltry hours 
Of tossing on my straw made bed at night. 



(Inspiring night! with tliee the purest 
thought is shed ! 
By thine own magic, stars and moon give life 
With light, and pale aurora moistens up 
The fevered brain with cool sweet tears of 
dew.) 

Thus boyhood ripened into manhood's dawn, 
And tliro' my veins the fiery flood I felt 
Yet ne'er had loved ; not e'en a school girl shy 
Could claim the lirst faint blush of love from 
me. 



AN^D OTHER POEMS. 36 

It seemed I had a love that 1 should meet — 
1 dreamed her name was Aala, mused on it. 
And now with retrospective glance half know 
The dark haired lover dead was quick again, 
That I was he, for when I met my love 
I knew my fate. 'Twas on a winter day ; 
I met her in the cottage small and white 
And of a dreamy town set in the curve 
Made crescent by a winding river's mood. 
And should I live a thousand centuries long 
Could ne'er forget her eyes, her hair, her 

form — 
Could ne'er 'forget the gown she wore, her 

words. 
Her eyes were large — I love a generous eye — 
They were well capable of fire and flame. 
But fire of pride more than the flame — desire. 
For when she spake, thro' their soft sweet 

disguise. 
Their dreamy light more soothed the soul than 

lured 
To phantasy and wild mad thought's red coals. 
J fer hair was glossy as her brow was smooth 
And fair, and arching like the rainbow's curve, 
Was with intelligence most eloquent. 
ILer soft pink cheeks took on the glow of youth 
As lightning currents passed her full rich 

veins, 



36 AALA DEEliTE 

And slic was perfect grace personified — 
Scarce on the hither side of ripened life. 
I do confess I loved her body much — 
Her soul no less — but loved them both and 

hold 
They are co-equal, both divine and pure. 

Then while my life was yet in bud and bloom, 
The time when first we met, my blood was 

stirred 
With palpitating and transporting beat. 
And I could satisfy myself and feast 
My soul interminably long in kissing her. 
My love was such I more desired her than 
The Lapland crone desires her flame of oil. 
Nor was my love for her the kind men have 
To lend just for a moment's usury 
That takes a woman's honor oft to pay. 
For mine was such as marred not e'en the red 
Eeserve that modesty doth paint upon 
The fairest female brow. And she? her love 
As pure as heaven's eyes shone thro' my soul 
And left no place for lurking vice to creep 
Within — to fetch and hide unchaste desires. 
Had she been suckled by the Muses all 
Her build of mind and ample heart of hearts 
Could not been more complete, perfection's 

self. 



anj:> other poems. 37 

For she WHS native of a generous clime 
Where gracious acts blow thro' clear elements 
Absorbing perfumed passion from the air. 

Then ere the gleaming sickle of the month 
Became the fuUfaced moon, we met again. 
That meeting Fate had fraught with destiny. 
A smile spread o'er her face like some smooth 

wave 
Upon a velvet sea. The hour had come. 

As flowers burst 'neath kisses of the sun 
So bloomed my love beneath her tropic glance, 
And oped my heart to her in words and acts. 

All fresh and full her rounded cheeks, her 

eyes 
A happy dream in twilight, pure as dawn : — 
(For eyes most all grow dark when love grows 

bright.) 
Iler wine-red wrapper loose with grace reposed 
About her luxurious form, and half unclosed 
Her shapely rose-white throat smiled thro' ; 

the folds 
Revealed her breast in perfect curve and 

mould, 
And spake in molten love of all the rest. 



38 AALA DEENE 

Her life thus far had been a night, since day 
Comes nowhere save there's love; but now a 

dawn 
Was broke — a slanting beam fell forward in 
A fruitful land — her soul began to glow. 

Yet ere her day had perfect grown, a cloud 
Called Death obscured the hearth and claimed 

her aunt 
So 'tis! old Death goes out, young Love 
comes in! 

So close we grew, so fond our love, so true 
And sweet, our hearts were as two chords that 

trilled 
Alike to every separate note of life. 
And I so wrapped in her, so lost beside, 
I thought sometimes my brain-hull empty was 
Of all the store that thought had filled it with. 
And closer ties than ours there could not be — 
For ivy never clung to oak more near 
Nor soul to soul in ecstacy more dear 
Than she in heart and soul and love to me. 

I loved but one and therefore truly loved 
And thus I lived a true and well filled life — 
Our life was twinned and twinned our happy 
hearts, 



AND OTHER POEMS. 39 

I felt the unseen world's deep mysticism 
Enfold my soul and nourish its desires 
Occult. By God ! I saw the smiling nymphs 
Of dawn that unborn babies see, ere light 
Ilatli dimmed their sight, and which they 

catch a glimpse 
Of in their dreams while at their mother's 

breast. 
Enraptured softness swelling out my veins 
I felt a kinship with the world at large. 

So hand in hand thro' love's own land 

We went my love and I, 
And reveled there beside the fire — 
Our hearts were twinned beside the fire 

As winter snows dravo by. 

So when the evening hearth-stone glows. 

And when the air is cold. 
And when pale Winter's falling snows 

Half choke the moaning wind that blows, 

Our hearts the closer hold. 

And we were wed beside her fire ; 

No formal vows we took — 
AVe loved each other — that was all — 
And joined our hearts without the thrall, 

Without the holy book. 



40 AALA DEENE 

To consumate our wedding pledge I used 
No force but argument; persuasion soft 
And gentle as a cooing dove broke down 
Her iron will and oped her tropic heart— 
(Since love and nature stronger are than 

codes.) 
Then fiery passion leapt from lip to lip 
From soul to soul, both throbbing thro' with 
love. 

She set her siren womanhood to me 
Like soft sweet music to the tenderest words, 
While she did reverence me as I did her — 
Then slipt into her bosom, lost in sleep. 
Thus over-active joy dissolved into 
A passive trance, by soothing bliss prepared. 

But morning dawned— she thought what 

she had done — 
Her mind was yet some warped by hollow 

creeds 
Whose shadows fell athwart her waking soul. 
These shadows I dispelled — replaced with 

hope. 
Then half in love's own humor, half remorse, 
A shaded smile took wings and flew across 
The summer bloom of her ripe parting lips. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 41 

Night came again ; beside the glowing grate 
Where mellow fire light fills the room with 

dreams, 
And weaves a thousand fairy forms and 

sylphs — 
The weft of Fancy's rosy coloured joys 
That swarm the brain of lovers — came again 
The pranks and tales that Love, long years 

ago. 
Did weave to snare and kill the monster — 

Time. 
Thus by the winter fire we murdered him 
Until I felt myself the shadow of 
Love's gracious dream in which so much I 

lived. 

Our courtship was unceasing — step by step 
We grew to court each other more and more 
As brighter, deeper, burned the holy flame. 
And oft and oft again we read, re-read 
Each other's soul — and found each time new 
gems. 

Indeed she loved me much, or else she would 
Not yielded up to me her blushing self. 
I called her perfect — true, in tenderness 
And pure in holy charm of womanhood 
So clothed with instincts of the just and good. 



42 AALA DEENE 

Of her I learned my faith in woman-kind. 
Of her I got my trust in noble deeds. 
She grew to be my Muse, my goddess — lute — 
For music came from every curve she wore. 
Thus when she spake I heard the meadow 

brooks 
Sing thro' the tangled grass in June, the hum 
Of bees and all the voices of the year. 

Nor yielded she the path of virtue for 
Deception's thorny glade, nor passion's flame 
And tumult ; only did she do what all 
Must do when thrilled with tremulous, joyful 

love 
The tide and time lead on to gates ajar. 

We lived together happy weeks and months 
Concealed; for well wo knew the gossips' 

tongue. 
I once was taken sick — she nursed me back — 
And when I tossed upon my fevered bed 
She soothed my illness down to pleasant 

dreams. 
In our seclusion soft she sang me songs 
And played me sweetest strains on her guitar. 

(Now, thro' the turmoil of the day — 
The chafing clatter of the throng — 



AND OTHER POEMS. 43 

A gentle voice — a love-toned lay — 
Again brings back her evening song.) 

Since I somewhat was given to verse and 
rhyme, 
I told some happy songs she sang and gave 
The soul of music to — and we were like 
Two children learning first of living love. 

Then muffled well 'mid furry billo\7S warm 
We took glad sleigh-rides over Country roads. 

Then came the spring and walks in field 

and wood — 
And filled and thrilled with love and light of 

step 
Upon the green she tapt her shapely foot. 
We watched the birds and list unto their song 
Of love among the dew-wet trees at dawn. 
Then carriage drives we often took, and lived 
AVe thus a century since both believe, 
*It matters not how long you live but how.' 
To live one hour of joy — a rose — to blush 
And die forever, better than a life 
Long filled with lily-paleness, frail and cold. 

Sometimes in boyishness I teased her much 
But ere I left she'd heal my conscience with 
Some gentle word, forgiving all my tricks. 



44 AALA DEENE 

And time fell on — electric hell, and doom 
Of swiftly moving sun and shade — a trance 
Filled full of flitting dreams and songs, thro' 

which 
These human souls, like butter-flies, do sport 
And play on crazy wing, that weary, falls. 

Then swarmed the sins of vice and empti- 
ness. 
And hissed the forked tongue of gossip, bred 
Within the sewer sloughs of low mean minds. 
And she who never 'sinned' nor fell nor had 
The poisoned tongue of gossip, foul with smut. 
E'er wagging at her spotless name, was now 
Sweet prey to heartless woman's vulgar lore. 
Then 'churchf oiks' turned a wintry eye on 

her. 
But she was brave and heeded not the look. 
Yet womanlike she felt the sting and w^ept — 
And oft upon her midnight sobbing I 
AVould steal, and change her grief to joy and 

chase 
From her sad dewy eyes the circled shade 
Of pain and rain my kisses on her face. 

Since for her love I could not pay her with 
The common coin men give to women, her's 
Was love for love, heart for heart, soul for 
soul. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 45 

When absent, thoughts of her would swarm 
as bees 
About their queen — so perfect was her soul. 

To visit her I grew at last compelled 
To tiger-foot it thro' the town, hid by 
A moonless night or friendly fog or storm. 

Then too, an aggravation fell upon 
Discomfiture of oars; her mother came 
To live with her ; a spry old dame, of ears 
And eyes, and scruples sanctimonious. 

I came unto Aal's window late one night 
And gently rapping on the casement there 
With our own secret taps, she flew to let 
Me in as soft as flitting shadows move. 
And oft when spending but a single night, 
With fearful lack of light, in her embrace 
And all the whispered doings of ourselves, 
And daylight found me elsewhere, 'mong the 

throng 
Or sad and lone, the raptured night half seemed 
A tropic dream where licensed Love was king. 

Then on my half-wake spirits came a cloud 
Of melancholy longing — sad as sweet. 
The years sped on, each ^moment jeweled with 



46 A ALA DEEKE 

A joy' — e'en tears and grief by Love were 

blessed. 
And often thro' white winter's breath and snow 
I walked to her thro' the night till the dawn 

was gray. 

And happy, I, who filled her heart with joy, 
And bloomed her full red curving lips with 

smiles. 
And poured my glances in her luminous eyes ! 

Then off for three long years apart from her. 
Her love, my love and consience held me true, 

Once back again, her open arms received 
Me to her open heart, and on the couch, 
Made pure by stainless love, we breathed the 

sweet 
Glad breath once more. When calmer grown — 
My head upon her perfect breast — the gold 
Upon the irised white — we drank from out 
The common font of memory and dreams. 
The gathering night held rapturous charms 
for us 
Since we no more could meet and love by day. 
* * * 

We builded our hopes in a beautiful land. 
And builded them pure and strong — 



AN'D OTHER POEMS. 47 

She planted the seeds with her own fair hand 
Which have blossomed my soul with song. 

^Ye builded our hopes and builded them well, 
And breathed our love on a world of light ; 
And the dear deep words from her sweet lips 

fell 
As fresh on my heart as the dews of night. 

And we made the land where our castle stood 
From the dreams God used for the flowers ; 

And surrounded our world with a fairly wood, 
Unpeopled by Time's wolfish hours. 

And the waterways spread thro' that happy 
ground 
Only mirrored the skies of June ; 
And the murmuring tree was the soft low 
sound 
That should keep our pulse in tune. 

And we dreamed that life was a holy thing. 
And scorned the world of strife and care ; 

And jeweled with joy and painted the wing 
Of the rose-pink cherub with gold in his hair. 

And we thought that the numbered days that 
were spun 
Around each one of the human race 



48 A ALA DEEI^E 

Were but whims of the shade and tricks of 
the sun, 
And we laughed old Time in the face. 

And we prayed with a heart that was full of 
prayer. 

And lived our love as few people could. 
But where is the castle wo built of air 

That stood in the fairy wood? 

Now all is past. But pictured dreams remain 
Since darkness came to shroud my being deep 
AVith melancholy. Still I hope that light 
May follow every night. It must be so. 
Light is the password of the universe, 
The melody of stars, the life of worlds, 
And immortality but lengthening 
Decay of grains selected from the shoal 
Of time — dissolving points that come and go 
Throughout the little circle of our lives. 

And yet our hearts were blent — one being held 
The soul of both — I gazed within her eyes 
Of thought and speech and saw her inmost soul. 

II. 
So years passed on — and each of us where 
Love 
Forgets dragged on our life. That is to say: 
Both died. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 49 

Pale Death's dark robes do come so oft 
In divers cuts and makes, that human eyes 
With passive ox-like look cannot detect 
The sable cloth, nor recognize a corpse. 
And she in loytilty to self and sex — 
Pursuant to the feel and fibre of 
A woman's heart — gave up her life for love. 

My death was not so dark a change as her's, 
For my belief was of a different kind. 
Denying it I lost my soul in doubt, 
And scorned to call it matter form or thing, 
Nor anght nor else than ceaseless trend, the 

push 
And pull of atoms, mystic, manifest; 
And undulations' thrill or throe, and felt 
As one law feels another — simply facts 
Apposed which might resolve themselves into 
The Absolute or something back of all, 
Like some rare synthesis in chemistry 
Where all the elements were thought to be 
But parts and shadows of the real and true, 
Back into which they blend to form the One. 

Like many others of my race and kind 
Whose span is made to seem of Chance and 
Fate 



50 AALA DRENE 

Too great a part, I fell to brewing up 

Dire storms of hate aimed at my fellow men. 

Thus where Love was now sat enthroned my 

Hate — 
A dark and dangerous cynic, bold and bad. 
Indeed I do not all deny I loved 
Some fairer natures than mine own, but not 
Because I willed to love. A rebel heart 
Fought e'en against his love. But yet some 

law 
Beguiled me on to love; for which I claim 
No favor. I, like every other fact, 
Found out there lives some greater one beyond 
The pale of self. My love therefore no more 
Than force of gravity Avas born of me 
Nor I of it. 

Not so with her! to her 
All light and life and love were one, the which 
Gone out did leave but darksome death. 

That's why 
I left the haunts where memory mixed with 

pain 
Too much to dwell among familiar sights. 
I roamed, and like a speck by rude winds 

tossed. 



AN'D OTHER POEMS. 51 

I fell before the chapel of an old 
Moth-eaten school where Orthodoxy hung 
Her cobwebs thick in almost every hall. 
More generous than the rest, the part which 

taught 
The 'healing art' I chose at once. 

But vowed 
I would go back to her and happy life. 
Yet ere that vow had crossed the threshold of 
My thought, on faltering wing fell down to 

death. 
My wishes too were caged birds and I 
Their palsied keeper, prone to cruel deeds. 

The wild beast of a savage ancestry 
From small aad harmless nursling first, had 

grown 
To be a monstrous master full of power. 
And restless, ill at ease and eager for 
Its dainty food : the broken bleeding heart. 
It led me forth in quest of tender prey. 

The woods were full of sweetest game and I 
AVas full of savage life. The game was wild, 
But I was sly, aware of all their ways. 

But once again upon untrodden ground 
Where fair fresh innocence was never flushed, 



52 AALA DEENE 

there it was I got my fatal blow 

From out the depths of deep dark eyes of 

brown. 
Ah me! a forest nymph had shot mo thro' 
And thro' with deadly siren-looks of love. 
Her virgin tints and dents and dimples came 
In showers npon my stricken mind and mood. 

1 fain would try to shako them off and lly— 
Not so ! then Avith my other self communed : 

thou impalpable gases of the air 
That sweep and sway God's linger from the 

pole ! 
Am I surprised when airy bubbles break 
My course? tliese momentary lesions still may be 
But backward breaking down of cells — the end 
At last the same. 

No, No! No, No! No, No! 
Not lust, not any thing but love! no dream 
Of power, no greed of gain, no hungry pride 
Attracts my soul to movement and to her. 

My heart has long been tilled for this rich 

crop 
Of love ; sweet tears have rained upon it ; grief 
Has plowed it o'er and o'er. Of higher 

thought 



AN^D OTHER POEMS. 53 

Small seeds were dropped by mystic winds 
And focussed rays from many flames have 

kept 
Them all alive and warm. 

now there broods 
Upon my many acts a purer dream, 
And thro' the mists of dawn a splendid sun 
Drives golden lances down till every blade 
Of thought is pierced and holds a sparkle fresh 
From God. now I see what darkness hid 
Or kept 'neath shadows indistinct. life 
Is good, for Truth and Love go hand in hand! 
now I better feel what sight confirms — 

Light and Love ! Love and Light ! 

Thou art so much the same. 
loving Light! Love is light, 

And light is but the name. 

she was fair and noble-browed and proud. 

No need hath she of praise from me, yet I 

Cannot resist the strong appeal to praise. 

The sunlight smote the dark with trembling 
love — 

New light to life ! fresh hope to heart ! foul 
Hate 

Had fled. Again the dawn with Soul en- 
throned ! 



54 A A LA DEENE 

Hail Sonl! 

Tliou art the only divino luonarcli ! 

For tliou wort onthronod as iniu'li l\y all the 

universe as by this little world of ours. 
The past with all its multitudinous populace of 

folks and facts wore and will forever be 

thy subjects. 
From the mother-sense — the Touch — to her 

yonng'est dauii:hter — Intuition — all have 

been loyal aiul diligent contributors to 

thee. 

Love is more than life and more than 
death ! 
tie that binds to all that is! bond 
Of union, links occult! when Love comes home 
The past disintegrates and from its ruins 
It resurrects, repooples day Avith joy, 
And sows fair TTeavon's jewels thick in vaults 
Of night. Love is all and more than all! 

KIKSr OK T11K SKVKNIMI MON I'll. 

Hill and oak tree. 
And beneath the tree the shade 
And beyond anil thro' the valley and up the 
farther siile, iunuuun-able trees and patches 
of clearetl land with ancient stone fences. 



AND OTIIKIl I'OKMS. 66 

Ami Ciirtlier, ii groat ridge ol' bluu liilln, 

And boyond, lino after lino, peak after peak, 

of tli(^ great White Mountains, and above 

them the soft (douds, and beyond the 

clouds — the sky. 
A butter-eu}) nodding at my feed — sky about 

my head. 
Springs ilowing from beneath nxd^s and joy- 
ously leaping (U)vvn the hillsiihs 
And calmer strc^ams winding thro' the valley — 
Infinite variety, anuizing similarity, beneath 

tiu^ sam(^ garb! 
And here and there (hi])pling the farther slope 

are homes of N^ew England farmers. 
And near me cattle graze, 
And drowsy shee[) rest 'lu'ath lurighboring 

trees, while the solemn (yoinundicuit Hows 

gloomily on. 
Thus here in Vcu-mont, ^'ature yieldeth to 

me this day her riidn^st estate. 

I sit in the lecture room — my (dass-nuites are 
about nu); 

I look at the professor — 0, he is a most com- 
plete num, his mind so rounded out he 
seems the sabbath of all sanencss. 

I listen to his words. 



56 AALA DEEKE 

These surroundings impress me, and I wonder 
if accouched time is more than a dream, 
and the things about me impalpable vis- 
ions of the mind. 
How strange it is that men have ears ! an eye 
Seems like a Jewel set beneath the brow 
To beautify the face. But ears protrude — 
Some speak loud of kindship with the brutes, 
While some, enriched with grace divine and 

sweet, 
Give music such as Art hath not produced. 
I think how strange it is that men have ears! 

How insignificant is human life! 

A leaf selected from a single tree, 

The tree obscure in endless boundless wood, 

And not at all unlike a million more. 

Yet after all — may not man be a sign, 

A symbol standing for all scopeless things 

And numbers vast as all suns conceived 

And lost in Time's untrodden desert wilds — 

An ornament upon the arch sublime 

And blue where starry worlds do count no more 

Than dew drops on the humblest grass thiit 

grows — 
A destiny perhaps to equal gods? 



AND OTHER POEMS. 57 

Man's love and hope the hands upon the clock 
Of time which measure out his dawns and 

dusks — 
This many-sided growth wherein alone 
The sunset comes without a dawn and snows 
Of winter fall ere spring hath spread her green. 

I go forth in the streets. 
The climax of my life is love. 
I am exultant and happy. 
Mistakes and misdeeds are forgotten or readily 
excused. 

I sing: 
Come bud and bloom ere ripened fruit can 

bear! 
Come sun and rain ere fields can be most fair! 
Come sturdy youth to all thy follies wed ! 
Come nobler manhood with thy follies dead ! 

Even dead grief yields sweet perfume. 
I sing : 
Without sorrow joy would fly — 
Without a tear, without a sigh 
The listless moments would drag by 
And in monotonous numbers — die. 



58 AALA DEENE 

I see the life of a city street 
With its narrow strip of sky — 
The wearily plodding on of feet 
As the endless crowd goes by, 
And as tenderly think of that teeming 

throng 
As a mother thinks of her babe. 

CATALYTIC. 

''^Her corpse they deposit miclaimed, it lies on 

the damp Irich pavement^ 
The divine tvoman^ her body, I see the body, I 

look on it alone, 
That house once full of passio?i attd beauty, all 

else I notice not. 
Nor stilhiess so cold, nor ru7ini7ig luater from 

the faucet, nor odors morbific impress me, 
But the house alone — that wo7idrous house — 

that delicate fair house — that ruin, * * * 
Fair, fearful ivreclc — tene^nent of a soul — itself 

a soul.'*^ 

IN THE DISSECTING ROOM. 

*I wish I could see all that eye has seen,' 
said Lib, holding up the eyeball of his 
subject. 

'What for?' said Bill. 

*So I'd know more,' said Lib. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 59 

To cut, to tear, diesect and dig a corpse — 
To search that marvelous field — the human 

dead — 
The sight and smell of death and fast decay — 
Tlie drip and ooze from dead men's open 

mouths. 
And eyeballs dangling out from cloven skulls — 
The severed hands and arms and legs of babes 
And mothers gray from sacred cares of life — 
The hawkeyed 'demonstrator's' hungry look 
With nose scarce half a foot above the wreck — 
Irreverent 'medic's' laugh and vulgar jokes — 
All these assail the softer sense of self 
And weave benumbing webs about the brain. 
And needful ones, but webs which soon dis- 
solve. 

Anatomy! Histology! Chemistry! Physi- 
ology! 
how great and good is the doctor's art! his 

science too is exact. 
He is the real minister. 

Suffer then to dig and delve in the anatomi- 
cal earth! 
the pleasure of it, and all the mysterious 
beauties beneath the lens! 



60 AALA DEEI^E 

Communities of individuals — what a world! 

a universe ! 
what caverns and abysses! what heights! 

what immeasurable spaces! 
what a nation of individuals is the human 

body! 
How wonderfully developed and differentiated 

and specialized are the various units and 

families of this people. 
And then that multitudinous executive of all, 

with a network of silvery wires — that 

complex cabinet, the brain ! 
the municipalities in a tissue and the tissues 

in an organ and the organs in an organ- 
ism! 
How ideal the federation ! how beautiful the 

government! how loyal each individual 

cell, how satisfied with his station, how 

faithful in function ! 
The magic architects — the divine mechanics! 
green and gold, 
chlorophyll riding a sunbeam ! 

distillation of death ! font of life ! 
freedom! perfect freedom until caught 
again in the net and web of life. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 61 

the playful atoms, frolicsome, free, never 

nnitecl. 
molecules rolling and tumbling in laughter, 

singing to each other and to us if we 

could but hear you. 
you playful things! joyously building your 

little houses and tearing them down again 

with the mirth of boys. 
you mimic warriors ! 
And you mighty builders ! 
Builders of towers of strength with green 

domes — 
Builders of fair domes — glistening domes to 

roof and house the thoughts of men. 
Builders on ladders of sunlight — 
bridge from star to star! 
Gleesome builders, blithesome, lithesome 

builders, logical builders — 
Architects, divine moulders, makers of new 

patterns — 
Never at rest, ceaseless, endless, immortal — 
beautiful cells of mysterious metabolism — 
Breaking down in thought and emotion — in 

dreams. 
course, pretty course along the line of 
the least resistance. 



62 AALA DEENE 

that accounts for all, for day dreams and 

night-dreams. 
God, how beautiful is death — death in life 

— and all the changes of death — this 

sound sleep, this change, this distillation, 

this life in death. 

How little we know of distance, of magnitude 

and power. 
Comparison is beneath all, and symbols stand 

for all. unthinkable finite and elusive 

infinite! 
And Time is stationary — the queerest old 

spinx of all. 
How small an ocean is beside a cell ! 
What gigantic changes go on within a cell of 

life— 
What mysterious tides, what surges, what pro- 
found, what awful darkness! 
What brilliancy of refracted light and life and 

what shadow-sounds with all! 

to look back across the dreary phylogony of 

a corpse! 
to look back into the early nesting-spots — 

the ontogeny of time ! 



AND OTHER POEMS. 63 

God! God! can this be Aala Deene? 
A subject to dissect? It cannot be! 

1 shall go crazy! there's a something in 
My mind that doth disarm my courage and 
My heart grows sick as faint disease. me! 
Her teeth! her teeth! oh let me see her teeth! 
Pearl white and even teeth— yes Aala Deene 
Had teeth that death not e'en could mar; I'd 

know 
Those teeth in. . . • shapely hands! oh 

poor dear hands ! 
hands that soothed my aching brow so oft 
And ministered unto my happy hours— 
And those arms— those magic ivory chains 
That once did bind so close a willing slave 
Unto her throbbing heart. The heart is cold 
Now too ! can this be the Aala Deene 
Of old? 

A dream, a nightmare rides my brain! 
Those livid lips, those slimy shrunken lips. 
Are those the rosy lips I pressed agone? 
These leaden eyes the lustrous orbs of her 
I loved? That sunken silent breast was once 
So warm and billowed with the hills of love 
That Nature chose it for an Eden fair. 



64 AALA DEEN-E 

It must not be ! I will compose myself ! 
Will hasten home ; will see my nameless love. 

she will tell me that I dreamed ! they — 
The ... to whom go we when days are dark 
For light of love and sympathy. Yes I 

Will seek her breast and warm embrace and beg 
Her tell me that I dreamed. But womanlike 
May ask my dream? that will never do ! 

1 could not tell her that. It might arouse 
The slumbering flame of jealousy within 

Her heart and pain and burn her stainless 

breast. 
me ! But I shall bear the brunt of my 
Misdeeds! now I see how futile is 
Escape from debt for sake of self imposed. 
What real folks mistakes may come to be! 
How thick the air is peopled by our acts — 
They are results which like our shadows run 
Before us long as life. They stare us in 
The face so pitilessly, cruelly cold. 
that we might foresee such evil pangs 
Or run away from facts which face and front ! 

Now comes the night, the fearful grewsome 
night — 
How thick my brain does swarm with things 
of past ! 



AND OTHER POEMS. 65 

How keen the torture of my soul and heart ! 
How faint and sick I feel! with trembling knee 
I seek my bed for rest — forgetful sleep — 
But sleep ! did ever a soul find sleep in Hell? 
I'm living over all my painful life 
Again. 

I seek the arms of her beside 
Me like a frightened babe its mother's breast. 

God! Death! welcome death, come 

take 
Me from this living hell — these coals of 
thought. 

1 press the soft full lips of her I love — 

I shudder — turn away. They seem so like 

The dead cold shrunken lips — the livid lips 

Of all that's left of Aala Deene I see. 

is there never a limit found in hell? 

The human brain can bear so much — no more. 

she beside me now is fast asleep — 
The ghostly clock strikes two — I steal out in 
The night — I seek the slab where Aala 

sleeps — 
No keen-edged knife divides her sacred flesh ! 
No vulgar jokes assail her listless ear! 
Irreverent eyes no more shall look upon 
Her form. 



66 AALA DEEN'E 

I clasp again dear Aala Deene — 
I look to see the crimson current flood 
Her cheek as oft before. 

'Twas never she 
Who sinned — 'twas I. But yet she paid the 

price. 
It seems so strange that ever since the world 
Began to weep, frail innocence should pay- 
To lose, and loving bear the tears of grief. 

The solemn old river is gloomy and still — 

Her secrets are not to be told. 
Her murky old breast shall keep them until 

The sands of the grave-yard are gold. 

One subject less for the dissecting-class — 

One more in time for the sea — 
One mile-post less for those to pass 

On the road to hell with me. 

Thro' the world of living men 

A dead man walks alone. 
His voice is mute as loveless tears 

His heart is cold as stone. 
He has no care for those who care, 

No thought for those who weep, 
And life is heavy on his hands, 

And all his walks are steep — 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 67 

All his ways are steep and deep, 

And every footstep to despair — 
Cold and dead, but death is fair 

To her and soft as sleep. 

And I have seen what slumber sees 
Walk naked in the light of day — 

Known sights and sounds that kill and freeze 
The groping spirit stooped to pray." 



'Ati^ a mail 'c must go with a woman, as you 
could not understand.'''' 



68 AALA DEENE 



®lt^ Strait?* 

KISS to thee— I throw it! 

Thou art not — and yet — 
woman ! or bloom of a spirit, 
Wouldst thou forget ? 



A^ 



Flitting thro' the lighted halls 

Heedst thou not a care? 
Thou fantom my flaming heart calls, 
Couldst thou yet dare ? 

joy, fairbodied and craven! 

I long to ensnare 
Thy steps with strands that are raven — 
Night of thy hair ! 

molten the golden mist-mazes! 

And winged are thy feet. 
My thoughts are shadows and hazes — 
Sweet of my sweet ! 

Unseen like a star in the daylight, 

I feel and I know 
The heave of thy breast and the soft delight 
Of thy bosoms of snow. 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 69 

The rain of the beams of the moonlight 

Rippled your hair as I felt, 
And thou wert a queen of my dreams that night 
On the sward as I knelt. 

So limpid-low the breezes blow : 
Out there the moon is bright, 
And all the boughs do beckon so — 
Fly to the night ! 

For thou the whirling twirling streams — 

For me the lost delight. 
The hallowed spot I knelt in dreams 
Out in the night. 

Farewell to thee ! I know it ! 

Thou art not — and yet — 
woman ' or bloom of a spirit. 
Would I forget ? 



70 AALA DEENE 



TMPERIOUS mind! the Master stands, 
■^ Surveys the fields of soul and sense — 
With majesty of look commands 

The ghosts to go — Faith's foul pretense! 

We hail him king and hold him higher 
With flawless love more pure and whole 

Than ever built an alter-fire — 

A peerless Prince of heart and soul ! 

The love of man his blood and breath — 
Heroic, strong in hope and years. 

The councilor of Life and Death — 
His eyes weep only human tears. 

His brooding love a beaming star 

That changeless floods the fields of night, 

And decks forgotten graves afar 
With jeweled tears of joy and light. 

Free born of chemic sun and dew. 
Sweet-mothered by the Earth below — 



AND OTIIKlt I'OEMS. 71 

lie blcrisod a weiiry world juiow, 

Aiul WMllvtul Iho piillis oC light wo know. 

He planted in tlio soil and dust 

The pansiiul Lliou<:;hts of lIo[)(^ and S})ring, 
And lillod tli(^ lu^art of iiian vvitli trust, 

And taught tlu^ huuuin soul to sing. 

lie tanght divinost doubts of good — 
1^'orgave the crimes that must and wiU^ 

And knows that even bane of blood 
Shall s<)iu(!tiine losii tiio taint of ill. 

Hut hark! I spoak of him as thougli 
My words could tell liis utter worth — 

Attompt is vain! and yet I know 

Ijovo's language is not wholly (hearth. 

nuistor mind! wondrous Soul! 

Ages still shall sing Thy worth — 
When love aiul light shall blend the whole 

l]mpeo[)l(Ml /oiu's around th(^ earth. 

When canin(i tcHith in mouths of men, 

Used no longer, mcilt away. 
The mating briuith of love; shall th(;n 

Rospeak Thy words, remould 'IMiy clay. 



72 AALA DEENE 

Thy words shall live! their touch and 
stroke 

Give to babes unborn the spell 
Of perfect freedom from the yoke 

Of Dogma, Devil, God and Hell. 

We call Thee Master — happy thought ! 

Winged Wisdom plumes Thy fame- 
More flowers of truth bloomed where Thou 
taught 

Than e'er again shall trail a name. 

Thy Soul holds more than sons of men 
Have dreamed thro' all the flight of time 

Or ever will be dreamed again 
Until the happy stars shall chime. 

Thy time on earth gave hallowed days — 
Blending all our noons and eves, 

Enriching thought's enraptured ways 
Like softened tones on autumn leaves. 

The varied seasons of the year. 

Fact and Fancy wed to woo, 
Unlost to Your responsive cheer — 

Is all a God could give or do. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 73 

'Mid facts, Thy life, erect,at ease, 
Eobed in Splendor's perfect grace, 

Like towering pine 'mong lesser trees 
Gives strongest beauty to Thy face. 

I see in babes, two moves away, 

Love's own heritage of Yon, 
And trace throughout their careless play 

Thy trend of soul, aplomb and true. 

In ''daughter's babes" (I weep for joy!) 

Lives the image of Thy face ; 
My heart enshrines the rosy boy 

That wears Thy winsome gift and grace. 

Thy very flesh is sacred stuff! 

Blooming flowers o' sumptuous truth — 
And never Christian lies enough 

Could steal away the tints of youth! 

The kindly light of knowing eyes 

Beaming through Thy haloed breath, 

Makes Thee eternal as the skies — 
Thy name triumphant over Death. 

Of Thee, for us no bitter hour 

Creeping cloud-like over life ! 
For well we know that death's grim power 

Is weak and wingless in the strife. 



74 AALA DEENE 

The countless facts of earth and sun 
Perfect union found in Thee, 

And made Thy grand ensemble one 
More great than all, more truly free. 

Thy wealth of brain, a brilliant sphere, 
Shoots the shafts of wit and mirth 

That rive a million minds of fear. 

And warm the seeds of sense on earth. 

sane and sacred Ingeesoll ! 
Manliest man of all our race ! 

Thy fame knows not of spring nor fall- 
Eternal lives Thy love and grace ! 

Then marvel not our scopeless love ! 

Leaping praise would woo Thy name. 
And never burning star above 

Shall live beyond Thy boundless fame. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 75 



Dedicated to Grady's friend, Col. W. A. Hemphill, 
a great-hearted Georgian. 

AR down the shadowy vale of tears 

We watched his passing into night, 
Where faintly ebb the vanished years 
And all is lost to mortal sight. 

Our eyes were dim, our hearts were sore. 
We could Qot think that loss was gain ; 

But felt the pangs of grief the more 
We thought to free our hearts from pain. 

Dear hills of Georgia, Grady's pride! 
Your sunny slopes are wet with tears ; 

And all our flowery meadows wide 
Will mourn their loss for years and years. 

We cannot choose but love him more 
As on and on thro' time we move, 

For Truth hath said it o'er and o'er, 
He healed a nation's heart with love. 



76 AALA DEENE 

Dear birds ! ye things of breath and dew, 
Of sleeping flowers and molten sun, 

Ye bringeth back our hopes anew. 
And faith from him, the Southland's son. 

Sweet symbols ! free from earth and all 
The rubbish pile of weary life. 

Inspire our patient souls and call 
One truer name for less of strife. 

Ye come with songs from fairy lands, 
And music fresh from Georgia's bowers, 

To bless the spot where loving hands 
Have placed a wreath of Northern flowers.* 

Ye come like hope on airy wing 
With notes of love and songs of cheer. 

And resting on his statue sing 
The psalms of life now doubly dear. 

The psalms of life and songs to move 
Our stricken heart to faith as wide 

As this fair land of Henry's love, 
From South to North, from tide to tide. 

*A wreath of flowers placed at the foot of the 
statue by Northern admirers during the Cotton States 
Exposition, 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 77 



/*\N the hillside, in the quiet, from the 
^*^ world apart, 

Resting in the av\^ful silent shadows after life; 
Sleeping in the solemn memories made from 

weary strife, 
We have left him as we laid him, with a wreath 

above his heart. 

All the trees had hushed their murmurs in 
the graveyard where they stood. 

All the grasses, like sweet children under sor- 
row's early blow. 

Joined the silence of the mourners, drooping 
sadly, seemed to know. 

What the leaves lost in the forest, and the 
weeping of the wood. 

We were children there beside him and tlie 
oldest of us felt 
Helpless in the darkness there, tho' highest 
stood the sun ; 



78 AALA DEEKE 

And we marvelled at his stillness — that his ac- 
tive life was done — 

And the mystery of this manner rose triumph- 
ant as we knelt. 

On the hillside, in the quiet, at a peaceful 

place, 
Eesting in the awful silent shadows after life ; 
Sleeping in the solemn memories made from 

weary strife. 
We have left him as we laid him, with a smile 

upon his face. 



A]S"D OTHER POEMS. 79 



T LOOK across the hill-tops 
-*- Where the ships sail out at sea, 
And float with them in fancy, 
And dream of all to be. 

I am out on the deck at moonlight, 
And feel the swell of the tide. 

Where the waters whisper something 
That the deep sea cannot hide. 

When the ocean is regnant with starlight, 
And pregnant with beams of the moon. 

There comes to my soul with her presence 
The sweetness of love, and the swoon. 

And Florence is mine, and the present 
Knows not of her past or of tears — 

No questions of pain that are jealous 
Of joys that delighted her years! 

But there in the fullness of dreaming, 
And the splendor of throb and the beat 



80 AALA DEEKE 

Our passion brooks not of the morrow- 
I faint and fall at her feet. 

I look across the hilltops, 
Where the ships sail out at sea ; 

In sublime and tender anguish 
I beckon them back to me. 

I moan to the swell of the ocean 
And plead with the tide of the sea ; 

And I pray to the winds of the water 
To bring her back to me. 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 81 



kAIR Hope was wed to Passion — 
A lover bold and strong — 
And Hope was rich in beauty, 
And Passion rich in song. 

They met and loved at morning; 

They loved and wed at noon, 
For the joys they sought are fleeting. 

And night comes all too soon. 

They made them a bed of roses, 
And hid beneath their bloom ; 

And bathed themselves in dewdrops 
And in a rose perfume. 

For Hope was coy and bashful, 
'Neath blushes hid her face ; 

While Passion, bold and eager. 
Clasped Hope in his embrace. 

They fed on dreams of rapture, 
On transports fierce and wild. 

And Immortality was 

To them their first-born child. 



82 AALA DEENE 



Pl^ Ql0xxxtivv; 



The 



HE world is my paradise ; I love to roam it. 
I love other vagabonds. 

I love the hearty, happy well-fed, well- 
groomed drummers. 

I love to mix and mingle with humanity — 
on the swift moving coaches , in the smok- 
ing car where the curling wreaths of blue 
crown democracy, in the boudoir, in the 
baggage car, in the general coach watch- 
ing the faces and actions of men, women 
and children — studying age and youth, 
studying thought and character, viewing 
mysterious cities, villages, and scatterred 
country cots in dissolving landscapes. 

I like to sit in hotel offices, in rural bar-rooms, 

in the country store at night. 
I inhabit every place 1 see, every secluded 

nook and glen, every hill, every vale, every 

city, village and country crossroads — every 

street. 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 83 

I live with every person I see — hating some, 
loving others. Every woman I meet I 
love or hate, marry or divovce. 

I like to meet men at their place of business, 
at their homes. 

I like to linger in the large and fashionable 
bazaars where endless throngs of women 
come. 

I like to go into the little shoe-maker shop and 
chat while he at the bench taps my shoes. 

I love the life and atmosphere of home "with 
the fair chamber, wherein faint dreams, 
like cool and shadowy vales divide the bil- 
lowed hours of love." 



84 AALA DEEi^E 



Y poems fall like leaves 

Beneath a city's tread — 
Like wind-voice of the eaves, 
Or last words of the dead. 



MI 



Long fed on fluent sap 

Of me, on love and light, 
I see them fall i' the lap 

Of long and lonesome night. 

As longing voices sigh 

Past casement eaves at night 

They moan to her and die. 

Unanswered by her smile of light. 

We wander, my poems and I, 

Like the voice of a speaker dead — 

Clasped ha ads with a moan and a sigh 
When hope from the heart is fled. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 85 



I 



gL xt^eni to Jt^tr at &v^n-ixde. 

WENT to her at even-tide— 

So long the shadows had lain 
Athwart my heart of weariness, 
They had grown to the scars of pain. 



The way was long, but I found Her out — 
I was tired of thorns and stones — 

My years of famine had left me faint, 
And the world had bruised my bones. 

the dreams of my hope, unutterably sweet 
Were the beams and gleams in my night. 

As I strove for the goal with the strength of 
my soul — 
For all gifts should be mine in Her sight. 

Silent and sad, down deep in the west, 

My sun had gone to its sleep ; 
Where the curtains of purple drawn softly 
aside 

Were the shadows that crawl and creep. 



86 AALA DEEN^E 

But the terrors of night never turned my sight 
From the gleams and dreams of my soul ; 

When the light of Her eyes should paint me 
new skies 
For the land of my love and my goal. 

Her fingers as cool as the young morn's breath 

Should soothe my lids to sleep; 
And Her bosoms of snow never more should 
know 

The warmth of a love so deep. 

I knelt at Her side at even-tide — 

God (that She never felt) , 
Such looks from Her eyes, what her warm lips 
said, 

When I died at Her side as I knelt. 



AKD OTHEE POEMS. 87 



T N my pocket I found a dainty glove, 
•^ And all that blissful day 

Visions as rare as my Florence is fair 

Blessed my enraptured way — 
And I said as I breathed the empurpled air, 

This is enough, / love! I love! 

In my pocket I found her dainty glove. 
And the gleams of that glorious day. 

The gold threads spun with the beams of the 
sun. 
Soft carpeting, fell on my way — 

And I said to my soul, Tho' life be done. 
This is enough / love! I love! 

Ah ! Love is love, and a glove is a glove, 
But there are tilings ivitliout names as tvell^ 

So ril keep her glove, and love her with love 
That should Mess the cursed demo7is of Hell, 



88 AALA DEEKE 



(To EUGENE V. DEBS.) 

T have dreamed the dreams of the lowly, 
^ And garnered the scattering grain 

AVhere the reapers have toiled before me- 
My harvest was tares and pain. 

But I said : Tomorrow season 

Will ripen the unshorn field ; 
I will girdle my loins in the morning 

And gather the dew-fresh yield. 

And the season brought forth its reapers 
Who garnered the golden grain 

While the dew was fresh on the grasses — 
And the dew was my tears of pain. 

But I smothered my sorrow within me — 

Awaiting the season again, 
The reapers I saw in the meadows — 

And the toilers were sowing the grain. 



AND OTHEE POEMS. 89 

And I swore to my soul : Not the morrow, 

But today, unmindful of yield, 
I will sow the grain I would gather 

Tho' I get not an ear from the field. 

And lo ! from my broadcast sowing 
On the bounteous breast of the field, 

Amazing rich was the harvest — 

And children were fed from the yield. 

And I cared not to garner, while others 

Know only to harvest and reap. 
For mine is the reaimig of solving 

Till, the spirit of rest gives me sleep. 



90 A ALA DEENE 



O 



Sunset soft and evening sky, 

And Twilight, herald of the ni^ht- 
And Eastern Star with steady eye, 
where is Dan, poor Dan, to-night? 



I know the spot, the dreamy place, 

AVhere rests his mouldering image now — 

But the light of love has left his face. 
And reason fled his noble brow. 

sleep of death ! have you no dawn 
Where waking Hope may greet the light? 

Or has my lover's future gone 

Back to the shoals of endless night? 

1 know the spots we used to roam — 
Dear hills made holy by his tread ! 

But grey are the ashes on the hearth of home, 
And cold his heart — and still — and dead. 

cruel Silence shun the grave ! 

One word, a sound ! from the shadow shoals 



AALA DEENE 91 

AVith foam of promise cap one wave ! 
One breath of love from departed souls I 

Not one, not one — and the sun is set — 
And the stars are far, so far away — 

The stars and the earth, they seem to forget 
That a soul can feel — dead lost day ! 

Sunset wide and evening sky, 

And Twilight, herald of the night — 

And Eastern Star with steady eye, 

Tell me, dear hearts, of Dan tonight ! . 



T KISSED the twinned perfection of her 
sculptured pride of breast. 
And felt the tide of passion swell where 
whirlpool currents tosst — 
And knew that I could never know the port 
of harbor rest 
Unless her arms should rescue me from seas 
where souls are lost. 



92 A-iHD OTHER POEMS. 



TpROM dripping eaves the voice of tears 
^ Speaks sad and soft of her dear eyes — 
Beyond the dismal wood she hears 
The croaking frogs and fancied sighs. 

The day has smiled itself to sleep, 

And anguished clouds weep woman's tears. 

For arms unclasped and could not keep 
What heart had sought thro' serried years. 

One happy hour of day was thrilled 

With loveful notes from some glad bird. 

A marsh with crimson cannas filled 

Breathed long of love with leaves unstirred. 

And drowsy dews met scarlet lips — 
Enraptured looks drank deep of eyes, 

And sense of soul in red eclipse 
Wooed purple modesty of skies. 

infant lips upon her breast ! 

dimpled hands 'mid laces there! 

1 press you close as love has pressed, 
And kiss the mother's more than hair! 



AND OTHER POEMS. 93 

song of bird, and babe asleep! 

And crimson cannas leaves unstirred — 
My love was mine for me to keep 

As sleep of babe, as song of bird. 

The day has smiled itself to sleep, 
And dripping eaves fetch echo tears. 

For she was mine, but not to keep 
As I would keep thro' years of years. 



94 AALA DEENE 



T SEE through every night a perfect star 
■ Whose beams blend love with hope, 

adorably fine ; 
I breathe its light, transmute it, call it 
mine, 
Still knowing that it blesses worlds afar. 
I even long for night — my splendid star 

Outshines the glare of day where babbling 

kine 
Puke ferment-words, and call themselves 
divine, 
And shock the soul with noisome gab and jar. 

Accept, Soul, the night of pain and death 
If only in the farthest rim of skies 

My heart beholds the dearest pair of eyes 
That ever haloed spicey human breath ! 

Invoke, ye demons of the darkest creeds. 

Most devilish pain! ye nightdogs 'mong the 
reeds! 



AND OTHER POEMS. 95 



^0 ^lovi^ncie* 

^^"75 ECAUSE we cannot see afar 

■*-^ The things without nor all within— 

Because most holy thoughts are slain 
Ere burgeonings of truth begin — 

I will not count my love as lost 

Because my love lives not with me— 

Nor slay the hope nor kill the flight 
Of all that passion dreams to be. 

Because the soaring soul is blind — 
Yet eagle-instinct thrills the wing ; 

And heart lifts up as heart weighs down — 
More sacred still the wish to sing. 

I sing to her and hope and hope — 

I know that I shall never know. 
I love, and love needs nothing more, 

And less perchance as love may grow. 

A million million years must roll 

And change on change more perfect grow, 
Incorporate the sentient soul — 

And then perhaps the soul may know. 



96 AALA BEEKE 



'Jhj 



gin ^lond^Ue ^notv^ 

HE stars look down on a frozen land — 



The pale moon thrills the lonesome 
deep — 
fair young face, and bare white hand 
Of her lover fast asleep. 

Cold, cold he lies in Klondyke snow — 

The stars shed gleams and the cold moon 
beams — 

The harsh wind whistles soft and low. 
And laughs at the gold of his dreams. 

But the gold of his dreams like the gold of his 
hair 

Was touched by frost — the frost was death — 
And his pale young brow made doubly fair 

By the frost of his frozen breath. 

Where skies are deep as her own dark eyes — 
Afar to the southward, under the sun. 

She laughs and sings, nor dreams that he lies 
So cold with his gold unwon. 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 97 

Cold, cold he lies half under the snow, 

His fair face turned toward southern skies — 

And it is best that she does not know 
That death has kissed his eyes. 



I 



HEARD the wind sough thro' the north- 
ern pines 
Of a deep interminable wood 
In the dead of winter, while leafless vines 

Entwined me where I stood 
With moon-shadows serpent-wise. 

Silent voices of the night 
Impressed me. From the glittering skies 

Star-pictures on my sight 
Fell cold and chill as dew that falls 

From the pale brow of death. 
Lo ! from the distance came the calls 

Of wood-dogs ; and my breath 
Mating their wiatry howls grew fierce and 
quick — 
Vague shadows crossed my brain — 
Nameless fears fell on my heart, sick 
With unutterable pain. 



98 AALA DEENE 



TF I were the sun and you were the dew — 
^ Each morn as the world lay asleep — 
Now can't you guess what I would do 
If I were the sun and you were the dew, 
And the old world half asleep? 

I'd draw you away from the arms of day 

And take you along with me, 
And hold you warm and hold you tight. 

And set you down on the shores of night, 
And put you to sleep hy a somhre sea — 

Watched by the eyes of the starry skies : 
Kissed by the breezes soft and low. 

Kissed and kept till the morning glow 
Should give you back to me. 

So if I were the sun and you were the dew — 
Each morn as the world lay asleep — 
Now can't you guess what I would do 
If I were the sun and you were the dew 
And the old world half asleep? 



AND OTHER POEMS. 99 



(To Col. Robert G. Ingersoll.) 

^hMTE came like the spell of morning, after 
*^V^ night 

Of weary waiting, watching thro' 
our tears 
Of troubled longing, tremulous with uncer- 
tain fears 
The dawn-hour drowns to glorify our sight. 
Our whole round world of loving knows no light 
Save Robert, by whom we reckon up our 

years — 
Computing worth and good by cost of tears 
And count each moment jeweled in his sight. 

How could our heart be less than grievous 
sore 
When wafted kisses spoke his time to go? 
And we who love him so, how could we 

know 
That we should see his hallowed face once 
more? 
Yet parting, thrills the nerves of love anew ! 
It may be best! and so, dear heart, adieu! 



100 AALA DEEi^E 



Y\ ^ ^I'lct the dawn, we kissed the noon 
We sped the day of peace depart — 
No smile of star nor quiet moon 
Came fathom-deep to thrill the dark 

With love or sleep. 
But I would not care had her black hair 
Not left a shadow on my heart. 

The full vase fell of roses red, 

And hell shook all the shattered leaves. 
On lips lust-red strange pallor spread, 
And feet tread there what brow should 
wear — 

Our love was dead. 
But I should not care had her black hair 
Not left a shadow on my heart. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 101 



HE trees were mute with love to her, 
The grasses bowed in sweet content- 
The wind was hushed in sighs to her 
When into the woods my darling went. 

I went with her and sweet content ; 

I held her arm, I kissed her hand — 
When with my love to the woods I went 

Our world was all one leafy land. 

The singing stream half sung its song, 
For drowsy ferns draped pebbly bed — 

Her trust was mine and troth is long — 
And western skies were streaming red. 

AVhen into the woods my darling went 
She spoke w^ith words as soft as sighs. 

And mated birds in dream-content 
Were undisturbed as her deep eyes. 

The leaves were kind as love to her. 
And twilight-banner softly flung, 



102 AALA DEENE 

Politely bent all boughs to her — 
For she was love and love was young. 

When from the woods I came alone 
The cruel winds had come to blow. 

Where once was grass now all was stone- 
And yet we loved — I loved her so ! 

I see no grass, no stream, no wood — 
I know that I must live alone — 

And twinned with death yet life is good. 
And bruised feet press welcome stone. 

For once the trees were good to her, 
The gentle grass, the wind was kind — 

I love them yet, and still for her 

Shall love them all tho' heart be blind. 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 103 



T AYOULD hush the murmuring music, 

^ I would stem the tide within me, 

I would stop the outflow from me, 

I would cease my careless singing 

If I knew my songs were sought out — 

All my idle songs and singing. 

If my outflow, ebbing inward, 
Filled some other soul with longing- — 
With my bitter hopeless longing — 
Filled some spirit full as mine is 
With the pain of over fulness, 
With the memories of the lost days 
And the pangs which bind us to them — 
Bind us fast with chains more flawless 
Than the coils and chains of life are — 
I would stem the tide within me, 
I would hush the murmuring music, 
I would stop the echo in me. 
Smother it with sounds discordant. 
I would kill the echo drifting — 



104 AALA DEENE 

Softly sounding thro' my day-dreams, 
Flowing, filtering thro' my life acts 
Filled with immemorial sadness — 
Calling for before-time gladness, 
Speaking of my past-time madness — 
Could I blot the bitter moments 
Out of being, from my sight now. 

But alas! too true the saying! 
Hard, too hard the fearful fact is. 
That our acts are living people 
Turning up at every corner ; — 
And our thoughts are birds of passage 
That precede us ere our going. 

Could I cast the shell of vice off 
As the lobster casts his shell off — 
Traits for ages trailing downward. 
And hereiditary weakness — 
Cruel shadows chasing after 
Culprit me thro' endless ages ; 
Could I stop the trees from budding, 
Keep the grass still in the spring time ; 
Turn again to sovereign childhood — 
To the sovereign age of childhood ! 
Mark the path for wind and water. 
Map and govern starry courses. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 105 

Kesurrect from graves the dead ones — 

Loved ones sleeping in the graveyard ; 

Back again beside my lover, 

Mating, matching with him over, 

In the world of Fancy's freedom — 

In the visionary vineyard 

Of our hopes and homely longings ; 

Could I feel again the winter's 

Wild and wayward pranks around me 

As he kissed my cheeks in childhood — 

Feel his icy clasp unloosen 

With the first faint blush of bud-time — 

Nay ! but could I turn the pages 

Of life's book and read it backwards, 

I could seal my lips with ceasing, 

And refrain from all my singing. 

Could I stop the moonlight falling — 
Moonlight streaming, flood of splendor ! 
Moonlight, starlight sleeping softer, 
Breathing heart-beats on the water, — 
I might change my course of action 
In my songs and other measures ; 
In my faults and ways with women — 
In my frenzied flush and fulness. 
In the fulness of my passion, 



106 AALA DEENE 

I might change my selfish seeking — 
All my selfishness of getting 
Pleasure for the pleasure having — 
Food of flesh and fevered blood, for 
Calmer feeding, cool, aesthetic. 

Could I rend the ties that bind me — 

Cords of blood to my mother's belly — 

And reverse the flow of ages — 

Faults which flow and flow which falters, 

Pauses now in me, and after 

Pauses in my children's children. 

Just as it has done before me 

Thro' the wild unmeasured ages — 

I might change my course of action 

In my songs and other measures, 

In the frailties of my loving — 

In my frenzied flush and fulness, 

In the fulness of my passion. 

Mine my sins are ! none to blame for ! 

Coward blame I have no room for. 

Have no care for, have no fear of ! 

Will not say : for lack of teaching — 

Will not have it so ! deny it ! — 

For the lack of other teaching 

I am all that you may call me, 

And my songs are what you find them. 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 107 

For tho' I am chained by nature, 

Chained as you are — what you call me, 

And my songs are what you find them — 

Far above your sight I listen, 

Pause and listen most serenely 

To the singing of immortals, 

To an everlasting music, 

And a flood of splendid dreaming 

Arches all the dome of heaven 

With the sweeter notes the heart knows — 

Symphonies the soul enchanting ! 

So my songs are simple echoes. 
Wild and wayward, wandering maybe, 
Crude translations, torn and scattered. 
Lacking — having and withholding 
From the coarser critic's cunning, 
Strains that sting to action, angels — 
Songs which soothe the dead to sleeping ; 
Strangers to the art of turning 
Eaveled rags and musty rhyming 
Back to newer colored weaving. 

I have gazed in nature's visage ; 
I have read the lines of thought there. 
And have seen her (like a maiden 
In her bedroom) stark and bare, 



108 AALA DEEi^E 

I have watched her dress and undress, 

And have felt of all her clothing — 

Of her naked form reposing. 

Know as well her moods and motions 

As her varied hues and blushes ; 

I have seen them — I have felt them ! 

T have eaten of her odors, 

And have drunk her choicest nectar : 

I have sipped it from her red lips ; 

I have bathed me in her breathing. 

So my songs are just as she is, 
Unto each the same as each is. 

I have looked at all the races, 

Clans and tribes of human fellows — 

I have seen the vast procession 

Of amazing things pass by me. 

I have learned the mighty lessons, 

Written by the hand of labor. 

On the page of land and water. 

I have used the soul's perspective 

On this sovereign age of action, 

And have spelled the word of progress 

In ten thousand different ciphers. 

Thus my singing may be wayward 
And of one brief moment, mortal — 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 109 

Yet for all the wealth of ages 
That have gone or may come after, 
Would not change my song or singing 
Of the fatal bonds of union 
That connect all things and peoples, 
That make one all facts and fancies — 
Brothers of all living creatures. 



I 



PJ0 ^^rp* 

Am my ship. 

And my ship is me — 

All else is the measureless sea. 

And I sail my ship 

The best I know ; 

And reef not a sail 

For wind or gale, 

Nor tides as they ebb and flow. 



110 AALA DEEN12 



Ten thousand ills of life and day 

Like untamed demons of the air, 
Or bullets biting scornfully 
Assailed his soul with barbed despair. 

He knew not what was joy to him, 
He only felt the aches and stings ; 

He felt all pangs of grief and flesh — 
The burthen of the soul that sings. 

The midnight watches waned nor paled — 
All mortal sorrow swelled his grief, 

And praying patience pained him so 
Not even God could give relief. 

He bowed his head and angel wings 
Fanned soft as mother-touch the air, 

To kiBS his temples cool with peace. 

Though frost should silver thick his hair. 

And^lo ! a strain of music came 

Divinely clear of divers notes, 
Enchanting grief to flight as from 

A heavenly bird-choirs' thousand throats. 



AND OTHER POEMS. Ill 

The sphinx had found the speech of heart 
And wondering man her riddle read. 

Parturient Love bore blessings when 
The singer softly bowed his head. 



"V^HAT care I if the world goes wrong, 

If joy be short and grief be long! 
I haye a heart and my heart hath a song 
And the light of her eyes to me belong. 

What care I if grief hath tears ! 

What care I if love hath fears ! 
I have a love and we have years, 

And m} softest sigh my darling hears. 

What care I for sunny skies, 

For gloomy days and dark replies ! 

Mine is the soul that swims and dies, 
And is born again in my darling's eyes. 

Lives our love be it right or wrong, 

All joys of love to us belong, — 
For each hath a heart and our heart hath a song, 

And tho' life be short, our love was long. 



112 A ALA DEEN'E 



|tt0 S^iUv 0f^ccpinnce. 

T AM the justifier of all things ! 

^ I am the impartial acceptor! 

And I had rather be remembered by those two 

lines than by all the rest of the literature 

of the world. 

I am in favor of religion in every form from 

the lowest to the highest — 
And I am in favor of everything anti-religious. 

I am in favor of government from the most 
despotic to the most democratic. 

I am in favor of learning and in favor of ignor- 
ance. 

I am in favor of virtue and in favor of vice. 
And I think Prostitution in her gaudy dress 
balances the Church in her tinsel robes. 

I am in favor of the rich and in favor of the 
poor. 



AN^D OTHER POEMS. Il3 

I am in favor of marriage and divorce. 

I am in favor of one woman for one man and 

one man for one woman. 
And I am in favor of more than one woman for 

one man and more than one man for one 

woman. 

I am in favor of patriotism and rebellion and 

socialism, anarchism and nihilism. 
I am in favor of all the philosophies and the 

ever broadening soul. 
And in favor of everything and anything that 

is human and humane. 
For I see in all things an immortal drifting — a 

help and progress toward the better. 
And I believe everything is needful — one in 

one way, one in another. 
I believe the lobster's last year's shell was as 

necessary to the lobster as the new shell he 

puts on today. 
I believe dark colors are indispensible to art. 

So with all my soul I accept all things as they 

are and everything that is. 
And with all my soul I hope for better things 

to come — each in its season. 
And with all my soul I believe they will come ; 



114 AALA DEEi^E 

And I need nothing more than an almanac to 
build my faith on. 

For I don't think God ever made a holier 
book than an almanac. 

And I don't think there ever were truer 
phrophets than astronomers and almanac- 
makers. 

And I don't think phenomena and science were 
ever outdone by miracles. 

And I don't think there is anything holier 
than Love. 

Or anything more beautiful than true mar- 
riage, 

Or anything sweeter than a happy home, 

Or anything prouder than patriotism. 

And I don't believe there were ever before half 
the heroes in the world there are today. 

And I don't believe History ever before had 
half as much to record as she has today ; 

For I don't believe there were ever greater 
events than those which happen daily, 

And I don't believe New York, Chicago, Lon- 
don, Paris were ever eclipsed. 

And I don't believe there is anything more 
classic or romantic than Hudson, Missis- 
sippi, Connecticut. 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 115 

I believe tliis is the greatest era this world has 

ever seen. 
I believe the greatest actors are on the stage 

(though some being weary are sleeping). 

I am proud of my country and equally proud 
of every other country, and Spain is a rare 
spice to my soul. 

I am glad to live in this age ; 

And I walk about through its amazing machin- 
ery, thinking: 

How wonderful! and feeling elated, puffed 
up, maybe, at being part of it. 

And I walk among the great characters and 
forces of this age feeling proud of them 
and loving them and tenderly caressing 
them and not loath to criticise them, but 
with undiminished love. 

And I am as sure of the future as of the pres- 
ent and past, 

And my faith is full and bubbling over and 
running out to meet the future — 

And up the stream of my outpouring faith 
come sounds, strains and currents doubly 
assuring. 

And I am jubilant, mirthful, ecstatic, over- 
flowing — as contented as the stars. 



116 AALA^DEENE 

Aud thus in the deep and earnest conviction 

of me 
I am serene and at my ease 
And happy as a mating bird, 
And would that all the children of men were 

happy the same. 



AJTD OTHER POEMS. 117 



Ii0jtt SUta^ ^xi^n^* 

YAST night as the Sun was low setting 
J-x^S) And sinking o'er Bedford-shire-hill, 
Imperially clothed in God's purple, 
And the twilight crept westward and still — 
Ere the splendid old day-god had vanished, 
Ere the twilight had ushered a star. 
On my heart had fallen good glory. 
And my soul had returned from afar — 
Come back like the herald of a dawning 
Though I knew that the daylight was done. 
And the jewel of my life — my heart's hoping — 
Must sink with the setting of Sun; 
Yet the spell of a faery fell on me. 
And the light of new hope filled the sky 
Like the dreamy sweet visions God weaves us 
At last when we lay down to die — 
And the spirit of Love to me whispered : 
"Dear Heart you dream not in vain 
For the fond-spell of her though she goeth 
^hall return to your heart's heart again," 



118 AALA DEENE 



AM I religious? 
^ Yes! 

Believe in God? 
I do if God means good. What is my Church? 
Mankind : That is to say, the universe, 
In which I have a pew — the pew is me. 
The pulpit is in front of me — where'er 
A heart is — man and woman, love and hope — 
There stands the pulpit whence the preaching 

comes 
And by it I am benefitted in 
Proportion to my capacity — for I must feel. 
Must see and hear to get the good of it — 
All erring ones do lack these senses much 
Or little, else a crime could never be. 

J have an idol too, it is the sun. 

Like any other plant I reach for him 

And feel the throb and thrill of life and 

growth. 
I thank him too for what he's done for me — 
For what he made it possible for me 
To do for me and other plants I love. 



AIS-D OTHER POEMS. 119 

And for the chance to worship God in man, 
In woman, tender babes and gray -haired folks, 
And patient parents, loving children. 

All 
The blessings of my sight, sun, I owe 
To thee and thou hast made me wide of kin ! 



120 AALA DEENE 



31 ^aij Stt^itli ^0lxn g. ^n0all0. 

O then each breath tasted sweeter, and all that day 
my food nourished me more, and the beautiful 
day passed well. 

Walt Whitman. 



HE sun had kissed the fields of snow 
And loosed the ice-clasp of the rills — 
I heard Spring's joyous laughter flow 
To Southward 'mong New Hampshire hills. 

I felt the breeze with tempered sun 
And odorous breath of mystic pines 
Soft fan my cheek, and thro' me run 
The blessed impulse of the pines. 

And all life's music which one feels — ■ 
The first fresh fullness of the year 
Washing the heart with a balm which heals — 
Making a million dew-drops out of a tear — 

With an inborn quickening of the pregnant 

soul — 
Fell on my life that glorious day 
Like the dream-won spell of a hoped-for-goal 
Wrought by some fanciful favorite Fay. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 121 



May 28th, 2098. 

TpROM realms unthinkable, vast, unknown, 
^ As some bright star is born to light 
From vaulted blue wherein thick-sown 
All magnitude of gems crown night. 

His splendid soul burst forth to give 
A guidance, flush with beacon rays. 

That toiling men might love to live 
And living break through better days. 

A star 'mong many stars, there shone 
His soul of light and love to men. 

The ^orld was touched, and hearts of stone 
Turned back to life and throbbed again. 

But far — so far away, he seems, 

That once did throb and thrill so near 

That sons of toil unused to dreams 
Did touch his radiant garments here. 



122 AALA DEEIJ^E 

We know not if his soul is set, 

Or lingering memory grateful keeps 

Some straggling beams lest we forget 
O'er burthened love unselfish sleeps. 

We cannot know — we cannot know 
The season's sweep or change of soul — 

We hope that from a shroud of snow 
A spring-like love may still unroll. 

With wooing warp shoot winged space 
And weave the woof thro' time and tide 

And trace the love-light of his face 
Where veiling vastness cannot hide. 



AKL> OTHER POEMS. 123 



OTO live in this remote antiquity — 
to know we have passed midnight in the 
great struggles of Soul and Reason to 
be free. 

the privilege to live now —to sweep the fan- 
tastic fields of sight and touch, of sound 
and sovereign sense. 

to look back over the past. 

To look outward now. 

To look forward and upward over the future. 

this is reward enough for the living and 
enough for the dead. 

this companionship of the unborn and the 
familiarity with the dead ! 

you unborn and dead, how real you are ! 

you millions and millions of souls magnifi- 
cently real and living. 

you unborn! 

Let me call you forth ! 

Let me speak to you — multitudinous life to be; 

Canst tell me you are not because you have not 
crossed the transitory line, of birth? 



124 AALA DEENE 

how you urge us forward, you unborn — 
What other incentive have we to do and dare ! 
Who would plant a tree, sing a song, or build 

a fortune but for the love of you? 
God, you are the best people ! 
Souls gone are not better than you — 
comrades of those far off better days — days 

of the unborn. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 125 



IN THE bloom and blossom of life and love 
My love was a flower to see — 
I loved my love with a holy love, 
And I know my love loved me. 

My love and T parted one night — 

We parted to meet no more. 
For my love was drowned in its own fierce light, 

And its corpse cast up on the shore. 

love in life is a wondrous thing 

As strange as strange can be ! 
But life and light no more can bring 

My dead love back to me. 

We parted by the shore of a mystical sea, 
My love and my life and my light. 

Our love, like the waves, beat mad and free — 
In abandon we loved on the brink of night. 



126 AALA DEEKE 

The stars came out in a mighty host, 
And darkness fell thick on the shore — 

Then my tortured soul with our dead love's 
ghost, 
Was doomed to walk evermore. 

And the dying days sing only of pain 

Since that awful hour to me 
When the love of my life was cruelly slain 

By the arms of the mystical sea. 



AI^D OTHER POEMS. 1^7 



Tell me, voices everywliere, 
Nor friend nor foe 

Ye come and go, 
Happy children of the air, 

Tell me, tell me, let me know 

Just one secret of the snow. 

Tell me, breath of waking flower — 
Speak, oh sparkle of the dew — 

Just one secret of your power, 
fellow mortals 'neath the blue ! 

Tell me, tell me, human thought. 
Wondrous worker, why so fleet? 

Tell me, comrade, how you wrought 
This spell of life so strangely sweet. 

Weft and web and woof and loom. 
And shuttle moving swiftly thro'. 

Comes there no answer from the tomb, 
No word nor wail— no song from you? 

Only this, we widely scatter : 
Motion, motion, soul of matter. ^^ 



128 AALA DEENE 



g^ ^x& |lot ^ndi^v^t'an&* 



*{^ 



E: COME, let us feast together sweet 



and long! 

At first our sips of gentleness shall be 
Unlike the hungry fury of the flesh, 
But touched and toned by all there is of joy 
Where softly languish half-wake flowers, fresh 
Beneath the jewels of the dew, distilled 
From loveliness of lazy odors ; where 
The latent passion sleeps in folded bloom 
And all unconscious waits the touch of lip, 
The dreamy light of eye, the whispered breath, 
The velvet stroke of hand, the wondrous words 
And warmth of love, until the billowed breast 
With deep-sea swell contends with curving hip 
And works a passive spell where sensuous love. 
First lapping at the shores, but gathers strength 
To pour the storm of passion deep within. 
come, my large-eyed love, my splendid 
Queen! 
Go to and clothe thyself in daintiness 
Of native tint of flesh and luring curve, 
Wherein thy ample beauty needs no woof 



AND OTHEB POEMS. 129 

The silkworm spins; for all the gods have 

made 
Thee fairer than these other fairy growths. 
A living sheen enrobes and ripens you. 
The light of summer's softest touch is on 
Your brow and cheek and reddened lip, and 

falls 
In golden splendor on your hair, and floods 
A form by Nature's kisses dimpled deep 
In which her dreamy coy-like shadows sleep — 
I'll chase these shaded tints, the deepest lie . 
Not deeper than my daring goes. With all 
My fondest wishes loose, not one shall miss 
The fleetness of my tongue and touch and kiss — 
Not one shall hide wherein I dare not go ! 

SHE: Speak not, audacious boy ! you wrong us 

both! 
Speak not I say, nor think of sensuous love ! 
All men speak thus, so prone to prey upon 
The fleeting charms of flesh — think more of 

soul, 
And love me for my highest self, and know 
The fairest flower that (iod's breath made to 

blow 
Came not of flesh — divinest form of clay 



130 AALA DEENE 

Is less than earth, except the light of day 
Brings never blush of shame to stain the cheek. 
'Tis not I fear the scorn of world and man 
That holds me back — my law of self is safe 
Until unto my woman's self it fails, 
For then, oh God ! but utter woe assails ! 

HE: Not so, dear love, my own love wondrous 

fair! 
No harm can come from kisses on the hair. 
A brow caressed wears still the haloed crown; 
And red lips warmly pressed need know no 

shame — 
So, kisses grow less harmful drooping down. 
And love knows love, tho' love have not a name, 
And flesh knows flesh when love knows love 

and blessed 
Are both, and pure as ever God caressed! 

SHE: Ah, yes! you reason well! your argument 
Lends gloss to grossest acts and fain would 

cheat 
The Soul of light by luring Passion on 
To utter ruin, where there is no stop. 
No turn, no upward look, no hop©, no faith 
In God, and less in man. This buxom self 
Would then be neither thine nor mine — these 

cords 
Of feeling, riot-run, would bind me fast — 



AKD OTHER POEMS. 131 

From pain of passion, honest Nature's first 
Sharp thrust to quick, adown degenerate deeps ; 
From love of boys, fair skinned and rosy hued, 
To lust of men strong limbed with hairy 

breasts, 
Of rude fierce stroke, and tyrant power— and 

then 
To dallying maids, well steeped in all the lore 
Perverted Love hath learned, and then ! . . 

and then 
To monstrous things misshapen by this curse. 
The very same you seek to graft on me. 
Unconscious tho' it be, as selfishness 
By nature ever is. And then, dear boy !— 

HE: Why this is madness, dear, insane as sin, 
And puerile as the Christian's faith and 

"scheme!" 
Why follow out the hideous devious steps 
That foul untutored vice hath left within 
The jungle-wilds ; Why weep when smiles so beg 
For birth? by what philosophy do you, 
The fairest creature of the dawn and dew, 
Attempt these sullen dreary depths of gloom 
When I would point the pleasant paths to you? 

SHE: PhilosojjJiy of tuo7na7i's 7iative trust, 
Innate as life, antithesis to lust. 



132 AALA DEEl^E 






HE going out of a life and the changing 

forever of things — 
The fading breath of a song just sung where 
lingering melody clings — 
The close of a day — the end of a lay — these 
are the poignant things — 
Ah ! This is the pathos that asketh, Why? 
and this — the fruit Joj brings. 
The little path where Love hath lead 'long 
shore of the mystic wood, 
And the patient path where Honor tread, or 
the painful tracks where Virtue stood — 
These are the things that cry and cry — Voice 
of the night that asketh, Why? 
Oh ! these are the things — the wail of harp- 
strings that sing of a God on high. 
The going out of a life and the changing for- 
ever of things — 
The fading breath of a song just sung where 
lingering melody clings — 
The close of a day — the end of a lay — these are 
the poignant stings. 
Ah! This is the pathos tliat asketh, Why? — 
And God is dead or deaf to things! 



'rn 2^1899 



" "'6 211 570 4 



